


Sapphic Fluff Fest

by DoctorPeeves



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Fluff, berena - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorPeeves/pseuds/DoctorPeeves
Summary: A series of linked one shots, marked as complete but added to as inspiration strikes. Set sometime after Bernie returns from Kyiv, Serena and Bernie are in an established relationship





	1. The Birds

There were many things that the two of them hadn't known about each other when Bernie had moved in (she hadn't officially moved in, and if anyone asked they denied living together, it was just that Bernie hadn't left yet), but one trait that Serena found most endearing was Bernie's knowledge of birds (and no, she didn't just mean herself).

It wasn't that Bernie was a bird enthusiast, she didn't go out for hours to get a fleeting sight of a rare bird, but she could identify a bird from a brief glance. She'd said it had started when she was young, on family holidays to exotic locations. Everything had been so different, even the birds, and for some reason she'd become obsessed with learning the names of all the new birds. It was a habit that had stuck, and now Bernie knew the names of birds from twenty different countries.

Serena had attempted to learn the names of some of them, but it hadn't gone very well. Not that Bernie seemed to mind. She delighted in attaching photos of random birds to their office door (which had now become a daily challenge amongst the staff of the AAU, everyone wanting to win, just for the prize of being Bernie's favourite for the day), or throwing the name of a bird across the operating table to Serena, expecting a full description in reply.

Elinor and Serena had finally sorted out a holiday together, the aim being to spend a pleasant few days bonding in Brittany. Bernie had helped there too, somehow. She'd had a private conversation with Elinor after an uncomfortable dinner, during which Elinor had been making plenty of snide remarks about Bernie (she hadn't taken well to the news of her mother being bisexual).

As much as she was looking forward to their holiday, Serena had a few worries. Chiefly, she wasn't entirely sure Elinor and she could survive a week together without killing each other. She was also mildly worried about Jason, even though she knew that Bernie could look after him perfectly well, and Cameron had said he'd pop over to see Jason too (though that concerned her too, they got on like a house on fire, and always seemed to get up to some sort of mischief on their expeditions together).

She was also concerned about how Bernie would cope. It wasn't that she thought Bernie was completely dependent on her, but that had been a few occasions, usually in the middle of the night, when Serena had had to bring Bernie's mind back from whatever dark corners her dreams had flung her to. Bernie had admitted that, without Serena, she wasn't able to get back to sleep after one of those dreams. What exactly was Bernie supposed to do without her there?

She got her answer the second night in Brittany.

It was about midnight, and Elinor and she were just dropping off to sleep, when the first message came through. Grumbling, Serena reached for her phone. Squinting against the sudden bright light, she stared uncomprehendingly at the picture of a robin that had appeared on her phone. Her mind finally caught up, and she quickly sent a message back.

_Robin. You're up late x_

The response was almost instantaneous, accompanied by another picture.

_You're off to bed early!_

It was definitely some kind of owl.

_Not all of us can be night owls like you (long eared) x_

It was a few minutes before the next message came through, long enough for Serena to put her phone down and settle back down into her bed. She half grumbled, pretending to be more irritated than she was, and ignored the snort of annoyance that came from Elinor's bed.

_Well done! They were easy ones though, the next few will be harder_

The conversation went quicker now, pictures and answers flowing together.

_Hummingbird x_

_Crested egret x_

_Definitely an eagle x_

_Pointy tailed blue back x_

_Shady green one x_

Serena was grinning at her last couple of answers, she could imagine the look on Bernie's face. It was one of Serena's favourite ways of winding up Bernie.

_You're not even trying now! I'll have to make them simpler again_

This time it was a picture of a duck with its head underwater, and Serena was pretty sure she knew what species of duck it was, but she was having too much fun now.

_Shy duck x_

The next one was a picture of a penguin.

_Bird wearing a suit x_

A pelican was _Big mouthed bird with a lot to say for itself x_ , and a heron was _Very tall bird x_

“Can you tell your _girlfriend_ that we're trying to sleep?” Elinor sounded very disgruntled, and Serena decided to ignore the way 'girlfriend' had been said, at least until the morning.   
“No, I can't. She's probably had one of her nightmares, and she's doing this to help calm herself back down.” Elinor was silent at that, and Serena returned her attention to the picture on her phone. It was a picture of a great tit, and only one thought came to mind

_It's not as great as your pair x_

_Serena! I've gone the same colour as this now!_

Serena giggled at the accompanying picture of a flamingo.   
“Mother!”   
“Hush, Elinor.”

_You did rather set yourself up for that one, Ms Wolfe x_

She didn't get a verbal response, just a picture of a puffin.

_Puff puff x_

Her phone started to ring, and Elinor groaned. Slipping out of bed, Serena headed towards the balcony as she answered the phone.   
“Puff puff?” Bernie's voice was laced with laughter, and Serena smiled at the sound.   
“I couldn't think of anything else, and it's what I used to call them when I was younger anyway.”

They were both silent for a few seconds, save for Bernie's chuckles, until Serena decided to bite the bullet.   
“You're up quite late?” She styled it as a question, giving Bernie the chance to make excuses. Instead she was greeted with a silence, and could feel the nerves rising up her stomach.   
“It was my accident. Doesn't usually bother me, but it wasn't entirely an accurate dream. It wasn't me and Alex in the car, it was me and you, and I wasn't the one who got badly injured. I've never been so terrified in my life, and when I woke up, you weren't there, and I panicked.” She made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a cough. “Bit pathetic of me, considering I'm the most fantastic, fearless doctor at Holby.”

“Now Bernie, it's not pathetic at all. It's the first time we've been apart since you came over to stay. It's perfectly natural that you should get a bit nervous being by yourself again.”   
“A bit nervous? Serena, I nearly tore the room apart.”   
“Well you better make sure you put it back together again before I get home!” Bernie laughed again, and Serena smiled, pleased that she seemed to have cheered Bernie up again.

“Anyway, Bernie, you really should get back to sleep, you have an early shift tomorrow.” There was a silence again, and Serena continued. “I can talk to you for a bit, if you want. Just until you go to sleep.”   
“I – That would be – Thank you.”   
“What do you want to talk about?”   
“I – well – what's your favourite bird?”

“Whatever did I do in previous life to be in love with an ornithologist?” The inhale of breath from Bernie suddenly made Serena realise what she'd said. “Oh, Bernie, I – I didn't mean – Well, I did mean, but –”   
“Serena, it's fine, I promised you when I got back that I would talk to you rather than run away. I won't – I don't – I can't say it back yet, I don't – What's your favourite bird?”

“Puffin.”   
“Ah, I should have guessed. Any bird you nickname as a child is destined to become a favourite. Why?”   
“You just said yourself that it's my favourite because I nicknamed it.”   
“But to nickname it you must have seen it somewhere, so why?”

“We went on holiday somewhere when I was very young, and there was an island off the coast that had a colony of puffins living on it. They did boat trips round the island, and it was so enchanting. I'd never seen the sea before, or puffins, it was all so new and incredible. My parents took me on that boat trip twice a day for the rest of the holiday. I loved the puff puff island so much.”

“That's lovely.” Bernie's voice was slurred with sleep, and Serena smiled softly.   
“So what's your favourite bird, Bernie?”   
“Ducks.”   
“Really?”   
“It was always nice coming back home from abroad and seeing something so normal as a duck. You're a bit like a duck.”

Serena paused for a few seconds, thinking.   
“I'm trying to see the compliment in there, Ms Wolfe, but I must admit I'm struggling.”   
“You're home.” Serena barely caught the half-mumble, and rapidly blinked back tears. She tried to think of something to say, and then realised she could hear the gentle snuffling that meant Bernie had finally slipped into slumber. Serena ended the call, stepping softly back into the bedroom.

Elinor had turned her bedside lamp on, and was sitting up in her bed, looking thoughtfully at her mother. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep, dear, I just needed to talk to Bernie, she doesn't sleep well.” “I know, I gathered from what you said earlier, and from your half of the conversation. Sorry for eavesdropping.” She didn't sound very sorry, but was still giving her mother a thoughtful look that slightly unnerved Serena.

“You love Bernie very much, don't you, mum?” Whatever Serena had been expecting Elinor to say, it wasn't that.   
“I – Well, I – Yes. Yes I do.”   
“Yes, well, she does seem to make you happy, and she's quite nice too, I suppose. I'm not quite used to it yet, but I'm sure I'll get there. Good night.” Elinor turned the light off and lay back down in bed, leaving Serena in the dark. She wasn't quite sure exactly what Elinor had meant, but it seemed she wasn't quite as against it as she had been at the dinner. And Bernie thought of her as home. As Serena got back into bed, she could feel a warm glow deep inside. No matter what else was going on in her life (and with Elinor), Bernie thought of her as home.


	2. The Paint

“Mum. Mum! Wake up!”  
Serena jerked awake, her neck complaining at the awkward angle she'd had it at. Elinor and she had had, against all the odds, a lovely week in Brittany. They'd arrived back at Heathrow late evening and Elinor has driven them both back to Bristol (she'd driven them both down to the airport in the first place, and had parked the car there for the week). The plan was for Elinor to spend the night in the spare room, and then head back to her own home tomorrow.

“Mum! What am I supposed to do?” Serena blinked at Elinor, confused. “Supposed to do about what?”  
“There's two cars parked in the driveway. It looks like Bernie has _someone_ over.” Serena shot a glare at Elinor, and then looked at the extra car parked in the driveway.  
“I don't like what you're insinuating there, Elinor, and it's her son's car, anyway. Just park somewhere on the street, the people round here don't mind.”

As Serena unlocked and opened the front door, the sound of voices from the living room reached her ears, as did the smell of paint.  
“Auntie Serena isn't going to like it. I've been telling you all along that she won't like it.” That was Jason, sounding petulant, but also slightly smug.  
“I don't know, it's definitely got something about it. She's going to love it, mum.” That was Cameron, who sounded like he was barely keeping the laughter back.  
“She said she wanted it bright.” That was Bernie, sounding very uncertain. Steeling herself, Serena marched over to the living room door and flung it open.

Her brain couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing. When she'd left, this room had been neat, tidy, and, most importantly, the walls were painted magnolia. A bit boring, perhaps, but at least it was a sane choice. Now, the furniture in the room was all over the place (though thankfully under dust sheets), and the walls were an eye-stabbing neon yellow.

Tearing her eyes away from the atrocity that was the walls, Serena surveyed the people instead. All three of them were staring at her, waiting for her judgement. Jason was wearing what looked like an artist's smock fashioned out of dust sheets, his hands so covered in paint he looked like he was wearing neon yellow gloves. Cameron was grinning, the paint stripes in his hair giving off the impression of a disco wasp on acid. Bernie was looking very subdued, her big doe eyes full of worry, but it was hard to take her expression seriously when she looked like she'd bathed in the paint.

“It's a bit bright,” was all Serena could manage. There was a snort from behind her.  
“A bit? Mum, it's hurting my eyes it's that bright!” Bernie had dropped her gaze to the floor at that, looking shame faced, and Serena felt a pang in her heart. She had been planning on teasing Bernie, but not if she was feeling guilty about it.

“Yes, well, it was nice of the three of you to re-paint the room for me while I was away. I've been meaning to do it for a while, magnolia does get rather boring.” She made her way towards Bernie, with the intention of taking her hand, but stopped just short of doing so. She didn't want to join in with the neon club, after all.  
“I did tell Major Bernie you wouldn't like it, Auntie Serena.”  
“Thank you, Jason.” She stared at Bernie thoughtfully. “Why did you get this particular colour, Bernie?”  
“You said you wanted it.”

Serena racked her brains, but couldn't for the life of her remember saying she wanted a room that looked like the 1980s had thrown up on it.  
“I don't recall –”  
“It was a few weeks ago. You were talking about how you would re-decorate the house if you had the time, money, and inclination.”

Now Serena remembered. It had been after one of Bernie's nightmares, and Serena had employed one of her usual techniques to calm Bernie by just talking. That night, she had picked a topic that was often on her mind, but that she had never discussed with anyone before, it was something that had always felt a bit too personal to just chat about casually (a silly opinion, possibly, but to Serena it did feel personal to share how you would let your personality flow if you had unlimited resources). If she was honest with herself, she had never really believed that Bernie was doing anything more than just listening to the sound of her voice, but that was obviously an incorrect assumption. Or, rather, she was listening as well as someone who was slipping between the grips of a nightmare and peaceful sleep could. “That'll teach me not to discuss important things with someone who is half asleep. I didn't say bright, Bernie, I said burnt. I've always wanted this room to be a burnt yellow.”

Bernie looked from Serena to the paint pot in her hand, to the wall, and back to Serena.  
“Oh.” It was such a forlorn little sound that Serena couldn't help herself. She found a relatively clean spot on Bernie's cheek and stood on her tiptoes to give Bernie a soft kiss.  
“You are lovely.” Bernie's cheeks started flaming at that, and Serena could feel the heat rising in hers as she remembered that there were other people in the room. She was actually quite relieved when Jason decided to interrupt.

“Auntie Serena, I don't think Cousin Elinor and Cameron know each other. Shouldn't we introduce them to each other?”  
“You're quite right, Jason.” Serena said, turning to face the three of them. Cameron and Elinor were eyeing each other warily.  
“Elinor, this is Cameron, Bernie's son. Cameron, this is Elinor, my daughter.” Cameron grinned, reaching out a hand towards Elinor.  
“It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you.”  
“Really.” Cameron's grin faltered and he withdrew his hand, shooting a worried glance at his mother. Serena decided it was time to take charge. 

“Yes, well, it's getting late. We can all talk properly in the morning. Jason, you can use the kitchen sink to wash your hands. Cameron, if you want, you can wash your hair before you leave, but you better use the pink towels in the airing cupboard if you do. They're the oldest set. Bernie, you go and get yourself cleaned up in the en suite. Elinor, I'll help you get the bags out of the car and get you settled in your room. After breakfast, we'll go out and buy some new paint to tone this room down a little, and I expect you to come back and help with that, Cameron.” There was a brief moment of stillness after she finished speaking, and then the three children left the room, leaving Bernie and Serena alone.  
“Serena, I am so sorry –”  
“Hush, Bernie. It's nothing that can't be fixed. Now, you go and get yourself cleaned up, and I'll be up in a few minutes.”

***

Serena dumped her bags in her room (the shower wasn't running yet, Bernie was probably still trying to peel her paint-covered clothes off without making a mess of the en suite) and headed into the guest room.  
“Have you got everything you need, Elinor?” Serena received a grunt in reply, and she shook her head, vaguely amused. Elinor seemed to have regressed to being a teenager again.  
“Night, Elinor.”

“How do you put up with her?” Serena froze in the doorway.  
“I don't understand, Elinor. Only the other day you were saying she was nice, and now you're asking me how I put up with her?” She had turned back round as she spoke, and was staring in confusion at Elinor, who had a nasty sneer on her face.  
“I only said she seemed nice and, after that stunt, I actually think she's quite pathetic. Standing there, covered in paint, looking at you with sad eyes in the hopes you won't get cross with her. And it worked. You should have told her off, mum. How can anyone be stupid enough to get burnt and bright mixed up?”

“She is not stupid, Elinor. She was half asleep when I discussed my plans with her. It was an easy mistake to make, and one that is easily fixed. There is absolutely nothing there for one to get cross over!” Serena could feel her temper rising, and tried to clamp down on it. This was not the time or the place to have an argument, especially not when the guest room shared a wall with the en suite. Serena only hoped Bernie couldn't hear them over the sound of running water.

“Honestly, mum, even if you can excuse her for mis-hearing you, how can anyone look at a tin of neon yellow paint and think to themselves 'Yep, this is exactly the colour I want my house to be'.”  
“People obviously do, darling, otherwise the shops wouldn't stock it.”  
“Only people with no sense of style would buy it. Not that that is really a big surprise as far as Bernie is concerned. She is a gay woman, after all.”  
“Elinor!” Elinor ignored her mother's outraged gasp, and ploughed straight on.  
“Actually, I'm not sure why I didn't realise earlier that you weren't entirely straight, considering all those awful shirts you wear.”

Serena was suddenly very conscious of the orange over-shirt she was wearing, but ignored the insult. That was not the big issue right now.  
“I don't know why you're being so horrible about Bernie, Elinor. If it's because you really don't like her, well, there's not an awful lot any of us can do about that. But if you're just being this bitter because you don't like the fact I have a new partner... All I can say to that is you were nowhere near as upset when your father got a new girlfriend, and she's half his age. He may be your favourite parent, but at least I'm not running round with someone I could have given birth to. Or is it because Bernie's a woman? Would you be so upset if she was a he?”

Elinor was opening and closing her mouth, but no sound was coming out.  
“Ah. I seem to have hit the nail on the head. Bernie's going nowhere, Elinor, you're just going to have to deal with it. All your attempts to tear us apart with your vitriolic comments are only going to destroy the shaky remnants of our mother-daughter relationship.” With that, Serena turned and stormed out of the room.

As she entered her own bedroom, Serena heard the shower in the en suite turn on. A sick feeling climbed up her throat. Bernie must have heard everything. Serena sank onto her bed, shaking slightly. This was so many shades of bad, and all of them were neon coloured. What if Bernie freaked out, and decided to leave? Or Elinor could do her usual habit of stalking after the other person and continuing the argument. Or, and this was definitely the worst option, Bernie might decide that, as well as leaving, that they should stop their relationship, just because Elinor was uncomfortable with it. Bernie had said something along those lines before.

The urge to be sick was growing by the second. It was unfortunate that she'd clogged up all her bathrooms with paint-plastered people. Instead she focused on her breathing, willing the sick feeling away. In for four, hold for four, out for four. She didn't realise how long she'd been sat there for until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Serena.”

She jerked out of her semi-trance, staring up at Bernie. She had changed into a pair of pink striped flannel pyjama bottoms and a red vest top, and her hair was sticking out at odd angles from where she had towelled it dry. But it was her eyes that had caught Serena's attention. To be honest, she usually was captivated by Bernie's eyes, although right now it wasn't for a good reason. They were full of pain, and Serena could feel her heart stuttering to a stop.

“I heard you and Elinor, I was – I can't be the reason you and her argue. I should head back to my flat and, maybe, we should let things between us cool down a bit. Just until Elinor gets used to it. And if she doesn't, well, I – we – I don't quite know what we'll do, but if us being together is going to hurt you because it upsets Elinor, I can't do it.” Bernie had gone straight for the worst option, and Serena couldn't lose her again.

“Bernie, stop.” Serena reached for Bernie's hands and pulled Bernie down to sit on the bed next to her. “Elinor is not going to come between us. You mean too much to me for me to lose you over something as silly as my daughter's temperamental moods. I know you don't want to hurt me, and right now you're not the person who is. But, if you do leave, you will be. And, I promise you, if I wake up in the morning and you've buggered back off to Kyiv, I'll follow you and drag you back myself!” Bernie's lips twitched upwards at that, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, which were fixed on the floor.

Serena reached out a hand and lifted Bernie's chin, forcing Bernie to look Serena in the eyes.  
“Trust me, Bernie, I'm not going to let something as silly as my daughter come between us.” They gazed at each other for a few seconds, and then Serena leaned forwards, capturing Bernie's lips in a tender kiss. It was just on the cusp of deepening into something more passionate when Bernie pulled back, chuckling.

“You know, laughter is just the sort of morale booster one wants after kissing someone,” Serena said dryly, shooting a glare at Bernie, who was still chuckling.  
“No, it's not that. You've got paint in your hair!” Serena reached up to her fringe, feeling the clumps that had formed there.  
“Never mind. I can't be bothered washing my hair now, I'll do it in the morning. We really should be getting to bed, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

They didn't say anything else to each other whilst they finished getting ready for bed (all Bernie had to do was brush out her hair, but Serena took much longer, struggling to find a clean nightie to put on (it seemed as if Bernie had done some laundry while Serena had been in Brittany, and had a very different idea about the best way to put away clothes)). It wasn't until they were both in bed, Bernie firmly wrapped around Serena (it was actually a bit too warm for Serena to be fully appreciative of this arrangement, but she wasn't going to complain, not tonight), that Serena finally started to work up the courage to say something.

She knew she shouldn't say it. She had got away with it that night on the phone, but she knew she shouldn't push it. At the same time, she wanted to make sure that Bernie knew how irreplaceable she was to Serena. But she really shouldn't say it. Bernie was jumpy enough as it was after what had happened, and saying it would only make matters worse.

“I love you, Bernie.” Bugger. She really hadn't meant to say it, but it had just slipped out. There were a horrible few seconds where Bernie didn't respond, and then, unexpectedly, her arms tightened around Serena, and she nuzzled her face against Serena's neck, a little hum escaping from Bernie's throat. Serena felt tears pricking at her eyes. Bernie hadn't pushed her away. In fact, she had done the opposite (although Serena did have to admit that the danger of suffocation was growing by the minute, but she definitely wasn't complaining now). And so, just before falling asleep, Serena decided to chance her arm again, and whispered:  
“I love you, Bernie Wolfe, and don't you ever forget it.” She felt a soft kiss against her neck in response.

***

When they'd got up in the morning, Elinor was gone. Serena couldn't lie, she was actually relieved that Elinor had left early. If nothing else, it meant that Bernie was much more relaxed. She hadn't mentioned anything about what Serena had said the night before, but she did seem to be finding every opportunity to drape an arm around Serena and plant a kiss on her temple.

Cameron arrived about halfway through breakfast. He still had flecks of paint in his hair, but seemed unconcerned.  
“I'm just going to get covered in paint again, anyway, no point in being too thorough with the hair washing,” he'd said, stealing a piece of toast off of Bernie's plate as he spoke. He had also provided a welcome distraction for Jason, who had spent the entire morning going on about all the side effects that came with being around paint for too long (he had apparently spent his night on the internet).

They were just getting ready to head out to the hardware store when the doorbell rang.  
“I'll get it!” Bernie yelled. (She was closest after all, since she was putting on her shoes in the corridor. Serena was finishing a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Cameron had gone to the toilet, and Jason was in his room going through his 'going out' routine.) Bernie pulled open the front door, and stared at the person on the other side.  
“Elinor!” It was, indeed, Elinor, holding two tins of burnt yellow paint.  
“There are more tins in my car, if you can help me bring them in, Bern. I can call you Bern, can't I?”  
“Well, I don't actually like it, I'd prefer it –”  
“Perfect.” Elinor pushed past a shocked Bernie and headed into the living room.

“What's going on?” Serena had appeared in the kitchen doorway, mug of coffee still in hand. Bernie walked past her into the kitchen, dragging Serena with her, and closed the door behind them.  
“Elinor's bought paint.” Serena stared at Bernie, looking just as perplexed as Bernie felt.  
“Paint?”  
“Paint. Burnt yellow paint.” At that, Serena made a faint noise of understanding.  
“Bernie, do you think it's a peace offering, after the things she said yesterday?” Bernie looked away at that, and just shrugged her shoulders. She started to head out of the kitchen but paused for a second, glancing back at Serena.  
“Didn't you say once that Elinor hates being called El?”  
“Yes. Why?”  
“No reason.” Bernie smiled mischievously, and headed out to help Elinor with the tins of paint.

***

Apart from the slight issue of getting Jason on board with the new plans (he didn't deal well with plans changing last minute), the re-painting of the living room was going well. Serena quickly realised why Cameron and Bernie had been so covered in paint the day before. Their aim with painting seemed to be to get as much of it on each other as possible, any of it making it to the wall was a miracle.

Jason had taken Cameron's side in the paint war, and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Serena was actually touched to see how well Jason got on with Cameron and Bernie. They made sure to involve him by throwing paint at him, but also made sure not to upset him by keeping the paint restricted to his hands and smock. Serena was also getting her fair share of paint thrown at her, though nowhere near as much as Bernie was. The only person who was safe from the flying paint was Elinor. At least, that was the case until Cameron made a mistake.

He had been aiming to throw paint at Serena, but she had ducked. Elinor had been standing behind her, and had ended up with paint full in the face. Cameron had looked horrified, and had started babbling apologies, which had been abruptly cut off when Elinor had thrown paint right back in his face. Everyone had taken sides then and, oddly enough, Bernie and Elinor had formed a team. They had also kept on referring to each other as 'Bern' and 'El', which Serena made a mental note to ask Bernie about later.

When they had finally finished, they all stood back to admire their handiwork. Where the sun hit the walls you could still she the neon yellow coming through a little, but it now looked like it was an attempt to make the room look more interesting with a splash of a brighter colour.

“Auntie Bernie, that's not very fair to Cameron. And it's a waste of half a tin of paint.” At Jason's protest, everyone turned to look at Bernie, who was standing behind Cameron with a tin of paint half-raised as if to pour over him, but instead she had frozen, and was staring at Jason as if he had grown an extra head.  
“Auntie Bernie?” Bernie's voice wavered slightly as she spoke, and she was blinking rapidly, as if to hold back tears.

“Yes, Auntie Bernie. I've been thinking about calling you it for a while. You are still Major Bernie, but you are with Auntie Serena now, so that makes you Auntie Bernie. I decided today was the right day to call you it because the two of you have been so happy together. You don't mind, so you?”  
“No.” It was a very overwhelmed noise, and Serena was once again surprised at how much emotion Bernie could pack into one syllable.

Bernie seemed to be searching for something else to say, but Cameron had spotted an opportunity, and tipped the pot of paint his mother was holding towards her. She yelped and leapt backwards, but seemed to forget that it was she who was holding the paint tin. Everyone else burst out laughing at the state Bernie was now in, and she eventually joined in. Serena's heart swelled at the sound of all the laughter. Her house hadn't sounded this happy in years.


	3. The Key to My Heart

It was a couple of days after her return from Brittany that Serena had her first shift again. Bernie's shift had started a couple of hours earlier, so she was long gone by the time Serena woke up. Not that this bothered Serena too much. They had long ago agreed to always have lunch together, so that, even on the most hectic of days, they always spent some time together.

When Serena finally made it down to the kitchen (Jason was at Alan's, so she didn't need to rush to fit in with Jason's routine), there was a key on the table, with a note next to it in Bernie's characteristic scrawl.

_Thought it was time I returned your spare key_

Serena groaned. She had known this would happen. The last time she'd tried to give Bernie a key (after three weeks of Bernie not returning to her own flat, except for fresh clothes), Bernie had refused to accept it, mumbling something about “I don't need my own key, I've not moved in”. She had spent the next three nights sleeping in her own flat, until she had turned up on Serena's doorstep in the middle of the fourth night, looking sheepish and admitting for the first time that, without Serena, she couldn't get to sleep after a nightmare. Serena had wordlessly let her in, not saying that she had seen the shadows under Bernie's eyes growing the past few days, and was becoming seriously worried about her.

She had hoped that disguising the key as a temporary measure whilst she was in Brittany would make Bernie more likely to accept it as a permanent thing. However, Bernie had either missed the deeper meaning, or chosen to ignore it. Serena glared at the key. She was aware it wasn't the key's fault, but right now it was a symbol for everything that could be about to go wrong in her and Bernie's relationship. Why did Bernie have to be so damn difficult about things?

***

AAU was eerily quiet when Serena walked in. Raf and Morven had been chatting at the nurses' station, but set about looking busy when they caught sight of Serena.  
“Ah, Mr di Lucca. We're a hive of activity today, I see.”  
“It's difficult not to be, when we only have three patients in, and the red phone refuses to ring!” Serena laughed, and then glanced between Raf and Morven, not really wanting to ask them where Bernie was (she didn't want to seem like she couldn't survive two minutes without seeing Bernie, after all), but she knew she needed to.

“Where's Ms Wolfe?” Raf and Morven simultaneously glanced at the office Serena and Bernie shared, and then back at Serena, both of them looking like they were holding back laughter. Serena followed their gaze, noting that the blinds were down which, when Bernie was in there alone, could only mean one thing.  
“She's doing paperwork? I must be having a nightmare!” Morven couldn't contain herself at that, and collapsed back in her chair, howling with laughter.  
“Ms Wolfe didn't see, particularly keen on the idea, I must admit,” Raf chuckled, and Serena joined in with the shared mirth for a few seconds, until she remembered the reason why she needed to talk to Bernie.  
“Yes, well, unfortunately I'm going to have to distract Ms Wolfe from her favourite pastime.” She gave Raf and Morven a small smile before turning to head towards the office, missing the slightly panicked look that Morven shot Raf, and the whispered:  
“You don't think they've fallen out, do you?”

Bernie's head shot up when Serena entered the office, and Bernie looked so relieved to see her that Serena found herself wondering if Bernie returning the key really needed dealing with right now. Bernie's hair, usually so neatly curled, looked as if a hand had been run through it in desperation one too many times. Her desk was unnaturally tidy, although the pile of unfinished paperwork had barely decreased.

“Serena, I am so pleased to see you!” Bernie had that soft smile on her face that she reserved just for Serena, and Serena knew if she didn't address the key issue now, she never would.  
“Bernie, why did you return your key?” The smile fell from Bernie's face, to be replaced by a nervous look.  
“I – it isn't my key, it's the spare. You said it was the spare when you gave it to me.”  
“Yes, well, I only said that so you would take it.” Internally, Serena cringed. She hadn't meant to say that.

“Oh”. Bernie sounded confused, but there was also a current of hurt in the monosyllabic sound.  
“I didn't mean it quite like that. It's just, well, the last time I tried to give you a key to my place, you ran away.”  
“I had only been staying over at yours for three weeks.”  
“I know, but I – it's an awful thing to say – I wasn't sure if you'd have the same reaction or not.”  
“Since then I have tried to talk to you about things, Serena, rather than running.”  
“I panicked, for a change. I'm sure you're delighted to hear that. I thought that, if I told you it was just a spare, you would realise I meant for you to keep it.” Bernie stared at Serena for a few seconds, before replying.  
“I don't think anyone would have worked that out.”

Serena chuckled sheepishly, moving to sit on the edge of Bernie's desk.  
“So, are you going to keep the key?”  
“It's your spare, Serena.”  
“I got another one cut before I gave it to you.”  
“I don't –”  
“Oh, come on, Bernie. It makes sense for you to have one. You must remember the other week when I was working late, Jason was at Alan's and I'd forgotten to put the spare key on top of the porch light for you. You were sat on the front door step for three hours before I got home. You having a key to my home is not a sign that you've moved in. It's a sign that we're at that point in our relationship where you have a key to my place. Please take the key, Bernie.”

She had been holding the key in her hand since leaving the house, and she held it out to Bernie now. For a few seconds Bernie just stared, eventually reaching out to take it. Her fingers brushed Serena's hand, but she withdrew her hand much more quickly than she usually did. She was turning the key over in her fingers, and seemed to be building herself up to saying something. Serena was watching Bernie tentatively, and had just decided that Bernie was finally going to say something when there was a knock on the door, followed by Morven's voice.  
“Ms Wolfe? You're needed in theatre.” Bernie jumped to her feet and hurried out of the office, not even giving Serena a passing glance. Serena felt her stomach drop. This was not going to end well. 

***

Serena didn't speak to Bernie for the rest of the morning. The quiet when she'd arrived had been the calm before the storm. Serena had been dashing around the ward the whole time, catching the occasional glimpse of Bernie, usually following a patient down to theatre.

Just before her usual lunch break, Serena was called into theatre. It was a relatively simple operation, but a time consuming one. She resigned herself to a late lunch, and sincerely hoped that Bernie wouldn't take the opportunity to have an early lunch just so she could avoid having to continue the conversation about where their relationship was.

When she arrived back on the ward, calm was reigning supreme once more. The only person in sight was Morven, who was sat at the nurses' station, working her way through a stack of paperwork that the morning had generated. Serena made her way towards Morven.  
“Dr Digby, where –”  
“Ms Wolfe left about an hour ago. She said she didn't know when she was going to be back.” Morven gave Serena an apologetic look, but Serena didn't notice. She was too busy trying not to burst into tears in front of the entire ward. She hurried into the office and sat at her desk, breathing deeply.

It was things like this that made Serena wonder if a relationship with Bernie was really worth all the heartache. She should have guessed Bernie would run off again, though she would never have believed that Bernie would run off in the middle of a shift. She obviously didn't know Bernie as well as she thought.

She didn't feel hungry any more (truth be told, she was feeling sick, and was seriously (well, not too seriously) considering throwing up across Bernie's desk), so she decided she was going to work through her lunch. Not that she got much done. She was too busy glancing over at Bernie's desk, and wondering, to properly focus on paperwork. It was about an hour later, and Serena had managed to complete two forms (by Bernie's standards, that was practically a day's work), when Bernie finally returned. Serena fought her instincts and stopped herself from looking at Bernie, deciding to let Bernie take the lead this time. Serena instantly regretted her decision as a key was placed on the desk in front of her.

“Oh Bernie, don't do this, there's no need –” Serena stopped speaking as her brain finally processed what she was seeing. Yes, it was a key, but it wasn't the key she'd given Bernie. It was shiner, for a start, and made from a different metal. Serena raised her head to meet Bernie's gaze.  
“Bernie, what –”  
“I thought I'd pop out during my lunch break and get it done, I didn't think it would take that long. More fool me. I couldn't find a place that cut keys at first, but I finally found a gift shop that offered a key cutting service. Of course, because it was a gift shop there was a massive queue, and then the machine broke and I had to wait for it to be fixed. I got the key for half price though.” Bernie finally seemed to realise that Serena wasn't entirely sure what was going on. “It's a key to my flat, Serena.”

Serena had only been in Bernie's flat once, and that hadn't been Bernie's idea. (Serena was actually quite embarrassed about the whole thing. She had insisted on going to the flat with Bernie and, when Bernie hadn't wanted to let her inside, she had taken it completely the wrong way. She had nearly burst into tears in the hallway and Bernie, flustered, had pulled Serena into the flat.) Personally, Serena hadn't thought there was anything wrong with Bernie's flat. It was a little on the small side, and didn't have as many personal touches as Serena's did, but it was comfortable. When she had asked Bernie why she hadn't wanted Serena in the flat, there had been a lot of nonsensical mumblings before Bernie had admitted it wasn't so much the flat she was embarrassed by, but rather the comparison of her own flat to Serena's house, and what her flat represented. (It was like Bernie's scars. They didn't bother her, it was what they represented that did.) It was because of this that Serena was staring at Bernie in confusion. She didn't need a key to Bernie's flat.

“Bernie –”  
“I know you – well – we never go to the flat, but it made sense. If we're at that stage in our relationship where I should have a key to your house, you should have a key to mine. I probably should have told you what I was planning to do, but –” She was cut off by Serena, who had leapt to her feet and had wrapped her arms around Bernie's neck, pulling her into a tight embrace. Bernie returned the hug, nuzzling her cheek against Serena's hair.

“I thought you'd gone. I thought you weren't coming back,” Serena mumbled into Bernie's shirt. Bernie broke the embrace, holding Serena at arm's length so she could look Serena in the eye.  
“I made that mistake once before. I'm not going to do that again.” They shared a smile, getting lost in each other's gaze, not hearing the knock at the door until Raf flung it open. For the first time, Bernie didn't instantly flinch away from an onlooker observing their open display of affection, instead taking a few seconds to gently squeeze Serena's hand, before turning to look at Raf, who was looking both pleased and uncomfortable.  
“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed to discuss this patient with you.” Serena allowed herself to get lost in the familiar medical language, the smile on her face as bright as the key she had just received.


End file.
